TBW - 5

Chapter 5: Hello Sparrow, I’m Saury Fish

Shi Ying’s family villa spanned a total construction area of 467 square meters, with four floors above ground, including a garden, garage, and basement. 

Homes like this were rare across Xicheng, let alone in a small county like Banshan. 

Back in the day, land prices were steep, and developers struggled to secure plots. Most real estate entrepreneurs focused on constructing six-story buildings, maximizing profitability. Adding an extra floor meant higher returns. Turning what could have been a community for thousands into a luxury villa district accommodating only five hundred people was considered wildly ambitious. 

But it was precisely this bold, pioneering spirit that catapulted Shi Kaiji and Li Xiangqun to fame as sought-after real estate developers of their time. 

From the moment Banshan Garden opened, it attracted successful individuals from all walks of life in Banshan. Bank managers, bureau chiefs, school principals, and hospital directors flocked to the development. Other nouveau riche, eager to join the “exclusive community,” followed suit. 

“Limited-edition housing” became Shi Kaiji’s golden ticket. Over the next few decades, he replicated this model in over a dozen high-end communities across Xicheng, reserving private properties for himself in each project. 

His career soared, and wealth flowed endlessly. 

After Shi Ying was born, Li Xiangqun stepped back from her role in the company to become a full-time homemaker. When Shi Ying entered high school, the family relocated from Banshan, where development had stagnated, to a more livable southern city.

Following the rise of international schools, Shi Ying did not take the national college entrance exam. Instead, his parents sent him to the UK to study for a foundation year. 

The path of the Shi family grew increasingly distant—so much so that the three family members often lived in different countries and cities, communicating solely through a WeChat group. No one could have predicted that their next reunion would occur seven months ago, inside a detention center in Jicheng. 

Shi Kaiji’s company went bankrupt, and he fled with embezzled funds, only to be apprehended by criminal investigators at Jicheng’s exit port. Accompanying him was a six-months-pregnant female subordinate. 

On that same day, amidst the bustling streets decorated with lanterns, Li Xiangqun informed her son, who was pursuing his Ph.D., that she had decided to divorce Shi Kaiji. 

The once-glorious townhouse was now sealed with an official court notice. All valuable items had been liquidated by Shi Ying in the preceding months. 

Shi Kaiji’s case of embezzling public funds as the legal representative of his company had already been adjudicated. However, Li Xiangqun’s divorce lawsuit against him was still ongoing. This villa represented the last disputed asset from their marriage, and it was now the sole property she was fiercely fighting to claim. 

Knowing that the seizure process would take some time, Shi Ying didn’t leave behind anything of value, no matter how trivial. From large furniture like tables, chairs, and benches to small items like plates, bowls, and chopsticks, everything was loaded onto a rented Iveco van and transported in three trips to a storage room beneath his maternal grandfather’s building. 

After hastily photographing the larger pieces of furniture in the warehouse and uploading them to a second-hand trading platform, Shi Ying immediately drove his grandfather’s battered Xiali car toward Chixia Winery at the foot of Helan Mountain. 

During this inventory of the villa, he discovered several bottles of aged Maotai hidden in the crevices of the wine cellar cabinets, along with numerous private deposit receipts from nearby wineries dated before 2017. 

Those were the years when Shi Kaiji was raking in immense profits from real estate. With vast sums of cash at his disposal, he followed trends and invested in various projects across industries: funding a mountain resort hotel, partnering to lease tidal flats for humic acid production, trading futures, speculating in stocks, dabbling in antiques, and eventually investing in the wine industry. 

Hearing that wines from the eastern foothills of Helan Mountain had significant appreciation potential and could sell for tens of thousands of yuan per bottle abroad, Shi Kaiji purchased ten tons of wine from a private winery in Banshan. 

One ton of wine could fill over 1,300 bottles. Even after drinking and gifting extensively, Shi Kaiji couldn’t use it all. His home wine cellar couldn’t accommodate the excess, so the unprocessed wine was stored at the winery. 

However, until Shi Kaiji’s imprisonment earlier this year, the selected wines had never been exported abroad. It was likely that even he had forgotten about this wasted investment. 

The wine market was rife with inflated prices, and many merchants exaggerated values. 

When Shi Ying found these deposit receipts, he didn’t hold high hopes for the wine’s worth. Still, he reasoned that 10,000 bottles of wine, no matter how cheap, should fetch at least 20 yuan per bottle. As long as the winery acknowledged the account, he resolved to sell the entire batch using whatever means necessary. 

Twenty thousand yuan wasn’t much, but he had no choice—he needed every bit he could get. 

Just as the car exited the residential area, Shi Ying’s phone erupted with a cacophony of notifications. 

Taking advantage of a red light at the intersection, he unlocked his phone. Most of the messages were from the second-hand trading platform. 

Under the link for the old furniture he had posted earlier, a male user named “Saury Fish” was attempting to negotiate a deal. 

“Brother,, this sofa looks pretty new,, send some photos.” 

“The description says black walnut? These patterns can’t be fake veneer, right? There are so many fake solid woods these days,, cut them open and they’re just plywood.” 

“I’m an honest person,,, you wouldn’t deceive me, would you?” 

“What’s the size? Can it fit in my living room?,,,” 

Attached was a photo of an empty, spacious living room. 

After skimming through the messages, Shi Ying furrowed his brow. Typographical errors were forgivable, and omitting punctuation could be understood, but why did this person insert so many unnecessary commas in random places? It seemed somewhat... off. 

Switching out of the chat interface, he opened the map app to search for Chixia Winery and started navigation. The journey was 42.8 kilometers, costing about 30 yuan in fuel. He hoped it wouldn’t be a wasted trip. 

As the light turned green, Shi Ying shifted gears and accelerated onto the highway leading to the winery. Barely five minutes into the drive, his phone began buzzing incessantly again. 

One message after another popped up on the screen—likely still from the same “Saury Fish,” someone who had slipped through the cracks of compulsory education. Irritated, Shi Ying silenced the phone with a flick of a switch. 

The aging Xiali car, weathered by over a decade of sun exposure, had faded paint and parts that shook uncontrollably—the windshield wipers, engine, and windows all vibrated. If not for his grandfather’s meticulous care, taking it out for weekly drives and repairs, this heap of scrap metal would have long been scrapped. 

Even with the air conditioning on full blast, it barely made a difference. 

With the outdoor temperature forecasted to reach 36 degrees Celsius, it was no wonder that sitting in the sweltering car under the scorching afternoon sun left Shi Ying thoroughly exasperated. It was no surprise he had little patience for an onslaught of unnecessary commas. 

Finally arriving at his destination, Shi Ying parked the car under a patch of shade. Just as he picked up his phone, another notification lit up the screen. It was the persistent “Saury Fish,” relentlessly hounding him, demanding to know why he hadn’t replied despite reading the messages and whether he had decided not to sell. 

Unable to ignore the barrage any longer, Shi Ying reluctantly tapped out a lengthy response: 

“The arhat bed, side table, tea table, and armchair are all solid wood—black walnut throughout. If you don’t believe me, check elsewhere. The dimensions are clearly stated in the description. Please compare them with your living room. I’m just selling unwanted furniture—I don’t want complications.” 

Opening the car door, a wave of heat rushed in. Moments later, his phone buzzed again. The other party typed furiously and replied with a string of commas: 

“, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,” 

What the hell kind of newfangled expression was this? 

Rolling his eyes, Shi Ying nearly fainted as he stepped out of the car. Without giving him a moment’s rest, “Saury Fish” quickly typed:

"Alright." 

"So, your description says it’s negotiable?" 

"Can you give me a discount?" 

"My wife and I need a bed too." 

"If you have storage cabinets, we’ll take those as well." 

"Dining table." 

"Chairs." 

"Preferably 90% new." 

"It’ll save you trouble if we buy everything together." 

Just as Shi Ying noticed the other person’s tone had suddenly normalized—omitting punctuation was better than misusing it—he took a deep breath and prepared to respond. But before he could finish typing, the next message from the buyer left him utterly baffled. 

As the seller, “Sparrow” (Shi Ying’s username) was willing to negotiate small discounts, but he hadn’t expected “Saury Fish” to come wielding a metaphorical dragon-slaying sword, attempting to haggle the price down to the bone. 

The original price of the new Chinese-style sofa was 9,000 yuan, but the buyer wanted to pay only 900—a 90% discount—and then proceeded to bargain for half of that amount. 

Not only that, but “Saury Fish” ended their message with two smug flower emojis: "Since you don’t need it anyway, right? Hiring old furniture recyclers would cost you money. I’ll pick it up myself—you won’t even need to deliver it."